


Tease

by Sintari (OriginalSintari)



Series: Sintari's Wincestmas 2019 Ficlets [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Humor, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-01-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:46:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,355
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22245811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OriginalSintari/pseuds/Sintari
Summary: A rapidly maturing Jack is going through his "Why?" stage and Sam finds it harder than he expects to answer all of his questions. Silliness ensues.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Sintari's Wincestmas 2019 Ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1597102
Comments: 22
Kudos: 113





	Tease

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Caffeinechesters](https://archiveofourown.org/users/caffeinechesters/pseuds/caffeinechesters) for Wincestmas 2019/2020.

“Wait. Always use the Sharpie,” Sam places a two warning fingers on the back of Jack’s wrist before he can start labeling their vial of wolverine musk with a blue Bic. 

“Why?”

Sam wonders if, growing up, he asked Dean “Why?” as often as Jack does now and decides firmly that that line of inquiry would only lead to embarrassing tales from Sam’s childhood. 

“Because it can smudge or fade, and then we might not know what it is when we need it. Then,” Sam pops the cork out of the vial, “we have to figure out what it is by smell.” He holds the vial under Jack’s nose, causing Jack to spring up so fast he knocks the wooden chair behind him over with a clatter. 

“Sharpie. I won’t forget,” Jack says, his hand pressed over his nose. 

“Hey Jack, sniff the Sharpie,” Dean says, appearing in the doorway of the lab clutching his first cup of coffee of the day. “That’ll help with the smell.” 

“No! Jack! Stop. He’s teasing you.” Grimacing, Sam snags the Sharpie that’s already halfway to Jack’s nose, using his height advantage to keep the marker out of the kid’s reach. The whole thing casts Sam’s mind back to the unfortunate week where he and Dean developed a fascination with huffing dollar store dry erase markers until Dad caught them with purple mustaches and... It was a short-lived habit. Behind Jack’s back, Sam makes the “cut it out” sign to Dean, who just grins and vanishes with his mug deeper into the bunker. 

“Why does he tease me?” Jack asks when Dean is gone and they’re back at the table with the newest ingredients, each properly armed with a Sharpie nowhere near their noses.

“He’s really teasing me,” Sam says, pulling the next specimen out of their box of supplies from the occult store in Kansas City. 

“Why?”

This kid. Sam has promised himself he’ll answer Jack’s questions as honestly as possible like, he now knows, Dean did for him. He’ll be patient. Understanding. 

“Because, Jack, I never had a little brother. I always was the little brother. And he thinks it’s funny seeing me teach you things.”

“Why is-?” 

For the love of all that’s holy. 

“Jack, according to the receipt, we have forty-four more ingredients to label. Maybe we can focus on that, huh? Pause the questions until we’re done working?”

So much for patient and understanding.

Jack’s hand passes over the Bic – what’s that doing in here anyway? – to pick up the Sharpie and Sam can’t help the fond smile that spreads over his face as they both, silently for once, work on taxonomizing their haul. 

“Does Powdered Mullein go under P or M?” Jack asks, then quickly adds, “Sorry. Sorry, Sam. You said no questions.” 

Sam suddenly feels like he just pantsed Jack and stole his lunch money. He brushes his hair out of his eyes.

“No, Jack. That was my fault. I shouldn’t have told you stop asking questions.”

“You were… wrong?” Jack asks. His tone is careful.

“Yeah. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

“And when you’re wrong you apologize,” Jack says, with satisfaction. 

“Right,” Sam agrees, while mentally giving himself a small pat on the back for getting that one drilled into Jack so firmly. Sam has long appreciated Dean for raising him, but now he’s starting to think that maybe he understands his brother a little better these days. 

“Ask all the questions you want,” Sam says now, feeling expansive. 

“Really?” Jack sounds eager now. Too eager? Sam is suddenly reminded of some of the questions he asked Dean when he was… how old is Jack really now? About twelve, Sam decides. No, sixteen. Like dog years or something. Dean had given Sam his first over-the-pants-handjob when Sam was just sixteen, not that that was going to be any part of the life lessons being imparted here. Sam and Dean had always been… a different kind of brothers. 

Of course, Jack’s first questions is, “What’s ‘being a tease’? And how is that different from Dean teasing me?”

“Um. Where did you hear that?”

“When you and Dean came back from the bathroom at that truck stop Dean told you to ‘stop being a tease.’” 

His eyes so wide he should be able to see behind his own head like a tarsier, Sam first senses, then sees Dean darkening the doorway again. His brother hears Jack at the same time he does and scampers away. Coward. 

Apparently, Jack wasn’t finished. “Is Dean being a tease when he teases me?”

“No!” Sam runs a hand through his hair. “He’s… So same word, different connotations. Tease, as a verb is what Dean does to you.” 

“And, tease as a noun is what you are to Dean?” Jack looked so pleased with himself, making the connection, like the world’s worst SAT question writer. 

“No, Jack- Just… no.” Sam looks at the doorway to make sure Dean’s no longer hovering. “Just listen- Um. So. When someone is a tease they uh… they pretend they want something, and then at the last minute they hold back.” 

Jack thinks for long enough that Sam has time to label three more ingredients. “Okay.”

“Okay? No more questions?” 

“No. I think I get it.” 

Sam lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Okay.”

()()()()()

As he should have predicted, it doesn’t stop. 

One afternoon Sam walks in from a grocery run to find Jack staring at the laptop, head cocked to the side like a curious puppy.

“Why is he telling her he wants her to choke on his salami? Is he trying to kill her? He doesn’t even _have_ any deli meat.”

That time, Sam rushes to slam the laptop closed as quick as all the groceries in his arms will allow. 

Another time, he and Dean walk in on yet another laptop session. “Do we have a landlord?” Jack asks as Sam blinks disbelievingly at the scene on the screen. “And is that how you pay him, Sam?”

Around Sam’s shoulder, Dean takes a peek at the screen.

“I’m Sam’s landlord,” his brother answers Jack. “And yes.” 

“Dean!” Sam hisses.

From there he tries to allow Jack only supervised screen time, but he can’t possibly police every electronic means of communication at all hours. Not to mention some of the racier books the Men of Letters apparently collected. For science.

One night Sam pads out of his room in the middle of the night to get a glass of water.

“Are you and Dean step-brothers?” Jack asks as Sam rinses out a tumbler.

“No. We’re... real brothers.” That doesn’t seem like enough of an explanation, so he adds, “That means we have the same mother and father.” 

“Oh, because this says these guys are step-brothers, but it looks just like what you and Dean…” It takes realizing that Jack is staring curiously at a video on Sam’s own phone to realize the mistake he has made. 

Oh no.

Now is as good a time as any, Sam decides.

He sits down at the table across from Jack. Takes the phone from his hand. 

“Jack, it is natural to be curious and ask questions. You see when a man and a woman. Or another man. But not usually his bro-“ 

Fuck it. Never mind. Sam is a Winchester, and if maybe he’s closer to the John Winchester school of parenting than the Dean or Mary Winchester school of parenting then, well, he’s learned something about himself tonight. “…Maybe you could do a little research on your own about where baby humans come from, huh? And then uh… maybe ask Dean if you have any questions after that?” 

Jack nods, then holds his hand out for Sam’s phone. 

“For research, Sam.” 

()()()()()

Sam follows Dean into the bunker. Another hunt done and dusted; a vengeful spirit moved on to the next plane.

Dean’s got his knee between Sam’s legs as soon as they bolt the door behind them.

“Dean!” Sam protests. “We don’t know where-”

Then a voice, from the War Room below them, “Dean? Is Sam being a tease?”

**Author's Note:**

> Comments and kudos are love!


End file.
